Hanging by a Moment
by Mindy35
Summary: KIBBS. Every moment in time can lead to any possibility.


Title: Hanging by a Moment

Author: Mindy

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Characters belong to DPB and CBS and Paramount and not me.

Summary: KIBBS. Every moment in time can lead to any possibility.

* * *

"_Desperate for changing,  
Starving for truth,  
I'm closer to where I started,  
I'm chasing after you. _

I'm falling even more in love with you,  
Letting go of all I've held on to,  
I'm standing here until you make me move,  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you.

Forgetting all I'm lacking.  
Completely incomplete,  
I'll take your invitation,  
You take all of me now,

I'm falling even more in love with you,  
Letting go of all I've held on to,  
I'm standing here until you make me move,  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you…"

-x-x-x-

He only had himself to blame. He must have wanted to be seen, wanted to be caught out.

Kate was a smart woman and he had taught her to always be alert and observant. But he was a trained marine and notoriously shifty bastard. If he had truly not wanted her to know he had spent four of the last seven nights outside her apartment he could have achieved it. The only explanation is that he must have, on some level, wanted her to know.

On the first night, he had no idea what he was doing, how he ended up there, except that he had discovered that morning due to Tony's prying that Kate had a date for that evening. Not an unusual occurrence.

Gibbs had only just arrived on her street when a few minutes before eight o'clock, he noticed a dark-haired, conservatively-dressed man bound up the stairs of her apartment building. A few minutes later, he emerged with Kate, wrapped in a dark coat and red scarf and wearing dangerously high heels.

From far away, he'd watched the man clutch her elbow as she walked down the stairs and into his flashy car – like one of the strongest women he'd ever known couldn't handle the short flight by herself. Like she couldn't completely disable her companion with one swift and precise move if she wanted to, high heels or not.

Conveniently for him, Kate happened to live in the vicinity of a very good coffee shop. It was small and a little dingy, but the bean was good and service friendly. So while she and her date enjoyed their evening, Gibbs took a stroll, got a coffee and made friends with Alan, the old proprietor, who was more than happy to discuss with him at length the terrible state of the world.

Returning to his stealthily parked car, he sat reading his paper, sipping his coffee, and stubbornly ignoring his niggling conscience until Kate arrived home with her mystery man. She was laughing as they climbed the stairs, and he lowered his window to see if he could catch the sound, imagining he could smell her perfume on the light breeze. He watched as she turned her back to the door to say goodnight and her date moved deliberately closer.

Her body language was clear that he was not coming in with her that night, but Gibbs watched with rapt attention, his heart pounding in his chest, wanting to see whether the other man would get a goodnight kiss from Kate Todd. He almost wished he would.

Hardly likely to ever experience the pleasure himself, Gibbs wanted to see how the woman he'd worked with and wondered about for years looked when she kissed a man -- how her lips moved, where her hands went, what Kate looked like with her eyes closed and her face tipped back in surrender.

He could almost imagine it, he could almost picture her. He wanted to see it-- despite the hot ball of jealousy and resentment coiling tightly in his gut.

The lucky idiot chickened out, pecking her lingeringly on the cheek before he watched her slip inside and headed back to his car. Gibbs waited a few minutes, considering his actions that night and condemning his improper thoughts. He waited until the lights came on in Kate's apartment, before he started his car a drove home to a restless night lying under his boat.

He'd honestly thought it was a one time thing. He'd managed to dismiss his stalking tendencies and over-active curiosity as simply a routine check-up on one of his team. Not that he'd ever followed DiNozzo on a date or camped outside McGee's apartment.

But, two days later, after inadvertently overhearing the end of Kate's conversation with someone named 'Troy', he knew with a frustrated sort of resignation that he would be visiting her neighborhood again that night. He tried all day not to think about it, tried to persuade himself not to go. And as he drove towards her place through the bleak, wet streets, he wondered to himself: why now?

Kate was always dating -- over the years, he'd heard dozens of men's names who called her and took her out. She was virtually a one-woman revolving door when it came to the male of the species. None, he was pleased to note, ever seemed to stick around for very long. And there was no reason to think that this Troy, whoever he was, would be any different.

Kate was a perfectionist, he reasoned privately, she was probably really picky. Or maybe it was her work, he thought musingly; she worked a lot of late nights and weekends, and he knew from personal experience how that could wear on relationships, even new ones.

She was certainly not adverse to the possibility of a long-term relationship. There was definitely nothing wrong with the way she looked or presented herself. Plus, she was intelligent, she was funny, she was passionate and she was confident. She should have men falling all over her.

But why had Caitlin Todd never, in all the time he'd known her, had someone steady? And, for that matter, why was _he _suddenly so interested?

Hastily pulling into a spot on the corner, he'd arrived just in time to witness Kate, wrapped in the same black coat, exiting her building with the tall, dark and lucky man he'd seen previously and assumed to be 'Troy'. She'd flashed him a bright smile as she slipped into his car, Troy holding the door, then running around to the other side. Did the man ever just walk? Not that Gibbs could blame him for his excitement, considering who he was spending the evening with.

He considered leaving then. He'd seen her, he'd confirmed who Troy was -- he had no idea what could be gained by staying. But very little was waiting for him at home. He procrastinated by going to get another coffee and chatting with Alan some more, and two hours later when he was still in the neighborhood, he decided to drop by to see if Kate had returned yet.

He still wanted to see that goodnight kiss.

This time, however, he watched from the shadows as Kate allowed her date to follow her upstairs. From the time the lights came on in her apartment, Gibbs watched the blinking clock on his dashboard, his jaw and fists tightening unbearably with every minute that passed. His coffee went cold. His eyes grew hot, his mouth dry. It was not hard to imagine what might be happening just a short distance from where he sat in his cold, dark car, but he tried valiantly to not let his mind go there.

Troy appeared again forty-two minutes later. With a deep sigh, Gibbs noted that his face and his gait was not the one of a man who had just gotten incredibly lucky. The next day at work, he studied the face and demeanor of his female agent as well, looking for any discreet changes, some surplus satisfaction or out-of-the-ordinary glow. But his Kate was just as she had always been, and he was convinced that nothing, or very little had occurred between her and the other man the previous night.

If something had, he would've been able to tell from her eyes, he was certain of it.

Still, to make sure, he took the long way home that night and headed past her place. He sat for a while, parked at a respectful distance, watching her windows from afar. No one came to collect her though, and he was left to imagine what mystifyingly feminine activities she might be engaged in all by herself, behind those heavy, pale curtains. Fascinating things like folding laundry, cleaning the fridge, watching the news… eating her dinner on the sofa… reading in the bathtub… going to bed….

He was so caught up in his own imaginings, that he almost missed her appearing at the window at around ten-thirty. She wore a little white, hooded sweater over her pajama bottoms and held a large mug in both hands, as she looked up the street and down again, then back up towards where he was parked. Then, slowly, she let the curtain fall again. Gibbs had gulped down the last of his coffee, started his car and driven slowly home.

He had to ask himself how long she'd known he was there, at what point Kate had realized. He remembered the way she'd cast a furtive look in his direction when Troy picked her up tonight. He'd tried to convince himself it was merely coincidental.

He'd parked a little closer tonight, becoming slightly more daring. He had the interior light on and the heater blowing. But he really had not been expecting her back so soon. His head was buried in his newspaper when he heard a sharp tap on his window and looked up to see Kate standing on the sidewalk beside his door.

Stepping out of the car slowly, he stood in the gutter, so they were of equal height, facing her and attempting to look guiltless and unperturbed by being blatantly caught out. Her eyes held no reproach or accusation though, only a slight hint of both humor and acceptance.

Gibbs rocked back on his heels, waiting for her to speak, as Kate hugged her coat about her. The wind blew her hair in front of her face, the dark tendrils reaching towards him as they fluttered wildly on the breeze. He almost reached out to smooth them back into place, before Kate tamed them herself, tucking them behind her ears.

"Why don't you come inside?" she asked finally, simply.

Gibbs looked at her suspiciously for a moment. That was a loaded question if ever he heard one.

"Come on, Gibbs," she nodded, turning and heading towards her building: "Coffee's on."

He felt a moment's hesitation before he followed silently, wondering what had become of her date. He didn't say a word to her though, as he followed her up the steps of her apartment building. He didn't say a word as they boarded the elevator, him holding the door for her to enter.

A couple of young lovers rushed on just as the doors were closing over, giggling hysterically and attempting to suck the lips from one another's faces as they rode up two floors in the quiet, enclosed space. He shuffled uneasily next to Kate, the wet sounds of eager making-out echoing around the tall walls, and wondered whether she had any idea what her perfume did to him.

He still didn't say anything when the happy couple left and the doors closed over, leaving them uncomfortably silent and alone. He wondered if she was waiting for him to speak. He supposed he really should apologize, explain, or at the very least, tell her he wouldn't stay long.

Kate didn't seem to mind. She didn't seem angry or upset, in fact, he'd never seen her look so placid. At last they reached the fourth floor, and he quickly stepped out into the softly carpeted hallway, following her as she walked calmly to her door, jangling in her purse for her keys.

Gibbs stood behind her with his hands jammed into his pockets as she fitted the key into the lock. He'd been to Kate's apartment before, but this felt very different. It wasn't clear what was happening and his body tensed with apprehension, not certain what to expect when he stepped over the threshold. The intensity that was pulsing between them in the increasingly unnerving silence told him that this was more than simply a late night drink between friends and coworkers.

On the other hand, he'd often been on the receiving end of the dreaded silent treatment from more than one cold-hearted woman and, in his experience, it was merely the calm before the storm. He didn't know if, once inside, Kate intended to seduce him or castigate him. Both options scared him within an inch of his life.

As usual, she surprised him, holding the door for him as he stepped inside guardedly, taking off his coat.

"Coffee's through there," she told him quietly, jabbing a thumb at the kitchen as she put her keys and purse down and took off her gloves and scarf.

He strode into the kitchen, making himself at home, as he listened to her picking up her messages. He tested the warmth of the pot and managed to locate two mugs, waiting for her to join him. He was lifting the coffee pot and grasping one mug when Kate entered, slipping out of her black coat and throwing it over the kitchen chair. He did a blatant double take, gazing at her over his shoulder as she stood in the harsh light of the kitchen in a sleek black dress which seemed to be suspended from one thin strap resting over one pale shoulder. It left her arms and décolletage completely naked, the wispy material skimming over her slender figure like the most daring of negligees, kicking out a little where it ended just above her knees.

As dresses went, it was one hell of a dress and he'd never seen this woman look quite so lethal. Or so womanly.

Blood rushed in his ears, as his brain abruptly stalled and his body began to spontaneously combust from within. His mouth dropped open in dumb shock as his eyes gawked with astonished and admiring candor. He barely even registered the boiling liquid pouring over his hand until Kate started towards him, saying something about getting burnt.

She quickly confiscated the hot coffeepot and grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him to the sink. Leaning over, she turned on the cold water and stuck his scolded hand underneath, her face wincing in sympathy. Sensation began to flood back to him, but he wasn't hearing a word she was saying. He was far more focused on the feel of her side pressed against his and her bare arm covering his through his jacket as her hand held firmly onto his wrist. Her perfume was reaching up to swirl around his head again and her nearness meant he could now smell the aroma of her shampoo.

She bit her lip and looked up at him: "Does it hurt?" he lip-read.

He looked into her concerned, brown eyes, nodding mutely.

Kate looked self-conscious for a second before she lowered her head again to focus on his injured paw. He thought maybe she shifted just a touch closer to him though, so their bodies were pressed closely together at the sink.

He couldn't look away from her, his eyes roaming over the graceful slant of her neck and shoulder, the freckles decorating her cleavage, the mesmerizing shimmer of her plump lips and the fascinating fall of shiny hair. He noticed her lips part and her chest begin to fall more heavily as her breathing increased under his unguarded scrutiny. He couldn't help but wonder if their proximity was affecting her as powerfully as it was affecting him. Her cheeks were flushing red, right in front of his eyes, he could see her trying to hide their color behind her hair.

Kate blinked a few times and glanced up at him shyly.

"I'll, um, get you some ice," she whispered huskily, then stepped around him to the fridge.

He followed her with his eyes, turning to watch her over his other shoulder, while the cool water continued to trickle over his hand. The move gave him a good look at the reverse of the dress, which dipped low over her back, exposing so much flesh that he almost groaned aloud. He watched as she took the ice from the freezer, then bent over to pull a hand towel from a low drawer, giving him an unhindered view of black-encased backside which, for the sake of his own sanity, he had to close his eyes and turn away from. Kate was back at his side though, in an instant, standing close and smelling all pretty as she pressed the icy towel onto his reddened skin.

"How's that feel?" she asked softly, cradling his hand as he accepted her tending.

She couldn't seem to meet his eyes for any significant length of time and he couldn't seem to stop looking at her, drinking in the sight of her in that unbelievable dress. She kept trying to break the silent tension with words, while he felt incapable of the most minimal verbal response.

"Looks pretty bad," she murmured, lifting the ice pack from his skin for a second. Her eyes flicked up to his and back down again. "I think I have some burn ointment…" she muttered, brushing past him and moving away again.

He grunted and nodded, still following her movements with his eyes. She opened a corner cabinet and reached into the second shelf, her calves flexing as she went up on her toes, and her back arching as her hand scrambled for the little tube he could see sitting just out of her grasp.

Without a second thought, he dropped the ice pack into the sink and crossed the three steps it took to reach her, until his front was grazing her back, reaching into the cabinet to easily retrieve the small container. He heard Kate draw in a quick breath and felt her tense at his sudden closeness. Without withdrawing, he slowly brought the ointment down in front of both of them and handed it to her, her fingers brushing his for a split second.

"Thank you," she breathed shakily, then gradually lowered back to her feet, increasing the tremulous contact between them.

Everything felt hot and heavy where their bodies touched and melded, breathing together in the sudden stillness. He was hyper-aware of every iota of his body, and of hers, especially where they were connected. He could feel each breath she took through her back as it expanded and brushed his chest.

His hands were twitching at his sides as he restrained himself from reaching up to grasp her shoulders and pull her back into him so he could feel her against him fully. A perceptible shiver traveled up her spine as he budged ever so slightly closer and his breath ruffled her hair as he closed his eyes briefly, drinking in her scent.

Would it be wrong to sweep her dark mane away from her face and kiss the skin behind her ear? Or trace her naked spine with the tips of two fingers? If he slipped his hand into the back of that devilish dress and moved it around to her front, pulling her up against him… would she gasp? Would she moan and comply? Or would she stiffen and stop him?

"Give me your hand," she whispered nervously, turning between him and the high counter.

He shuffled back a little and obeyed, her shoulder resting against his sternum, as she uncapped the tube and pretended to read the directions. She was still avoiding his gaze. He dropped his eyes from her intent profile as she picked up his hand, watching as one little finger with its neat, polished nail, smoothed a blob of white cream over his enflamed skin. He winced a little as the wound stung under her light touch.

"Sorry," she whispered, smiling slightly at his sensitivity.

Her touch was so tender, so tentative as she patiently worked the cream into every millimeter of his wound, trying not to hurt him, adding another cold blob for good measure. He accepted her ministrations, a little lift at the corner of his mouth as he watched her concentrating on tending to him.

When all the cream had soaked into his skin, she lifted his hand and lowered her head, pursing her lips and blowing a thin stream of cool air over the affected area. The skin of his hand and whole arm goosebumped in response. Kate took in another breath and repeated the action, shaking her head slightly, slowly back and forth so her breath anointed his entire hand.

Then she lifted her head and looked up at him, finally meeting his gaze.

"Feel better?" she asked softly.

Immense feeling swelled in the depths of her dark eyes -- hope, doubt, embarrassment, warmth, concern, curiosity. The hand she held slowly turned over of its own accord, cupping her jaw as his thumb stroked her cheek with a light touch. Her skin felt like velvet, her eyes fluttered lightly and her lips parted as his thumb drifted close to the corner of her mouth.

"Gibbs…" she whispered hesitantly.

And the next thing he knew, his nose was buried in the tangle of her hair and his lips were kissing the skin under her ear. His brain and body was flooded by sensation, his hands found a will of their own. She tasted like something sweet from his childhood – cotton candy or marshmallow, one of those sweet things he never ate anymore. He could hear his own breath rasp against her skin as his hand slipped from her jaw up into her hair, fingers burrowing deeply and holding on tight. His nose nudged at her insistently, drinking in her smell and texture as his lips shifted lower to explore her neck.

A small hand came up to grasp his bicep, her arm curled around his as she leaned into him, swaying on her feet. The atmosphere around them seemed crowded with heat and anticipation as reality slipped into the background and something far more powerful took precedence.

With her voiceless submission, his lips on her neck became more urgent, more bold, his tongue lashing her skin with every kiss. Kate whimpered, panting softly as his other hand pulled her closer, wrapping around her back and clasping the gentle swell of her hip. His face was buried in her bare shoulder and she turned a little, sliding a hand up into his hair, arching against him in encouragement.

"Gibbs…" she whispered again, beginning to place soft, wet kisses along the curve of his jaw.

He hummed eagerly, his eyes closed as his lips wandered up over her temple. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He could believe he had waited _so long_ to do this.

His whole body felt enflamed with the sort of pleasure he'd forgotten existed. He'd tried to forget it existed; forced himself to – because pleasure like this made a man loose his mind. Pleasure like this robbed a man of thought, control and responsibility. Pleasure like this lead to trouble.

Abruptly, Gibbs stopped. Eyes closed, he pulled back. His hands were still on her, his arms still encircling her, his lips immobile in her hair.

Just that momentary taste of her, feel of her had stripped him of every valid reason why giving into this thing that he always felt around her was a bad idea.

"We can't do this," he panted heavily, summoning up his self-control and frantically searching his brain for reasons why the two of them should not do something that felt so good, so right.

He was her boss, he reminded himself halfheartedly, eyes still clamped shut. That was one. He was also nearly twenty years older than her – another excellent reason why kissing Kate Todd did not make sense. He was a selfish bastard who always chose the wrong women and could never maintain a decent relationship – a couple of really good ones there.

And she definitely deserved better than that, he admitted broodingly as his arms loosened their hold on her. She had Mister Tall, Dark and Extremely Lucky, after all. She didn't need her cranky, old boss making passes at her simply because she shows him a little sympathy.

"This is wrong," he mumbled quietly, bowing his head and drawing back.

Opening his eyes and looking at her, he saw that her eyes still glittered with passion in a way he never thought he would witness, let alone see directed at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest rose and fell deeply as she stared at him for a long moment, unable to mask the hurt, the disappointment she felt.

She looked away, hastily, turning her back on him. She stood indecisive for a moment, attempting to compose herself, while he hung his head and willed his breathing to return to normal. He couldn't seem to convince his body to move away from her though.

Reaching into the cabinet again, Kate released a sigh of frustration when she couldn't reach the roll of bandage at the back. He hesitated briefly before he reached in from behind her, his arm brushing hers as his hand found it, but his body careful not to make contact, hovering just behind her.

They both froze in place once more, holding still for a prolonged moment before he let out a moan and yielded to the impulse, allowing his body to close the short, hot distance between them. Kate gasped, pressing back against him at the same time, her head tipped back on his shoulder as his mouth attacked her shoulder with greater urgency than before and his arms wrapped around her body, draped in black satin. He pulled her in, feeling his body cover hers completely this time and her small, round curves fit against him with exhilarating perfection.

As much as he tried, he couldn't convince himself from the way she reacted, from the way her body undulated in his grasp, that she didn't want this as badly as he did. He never in his wildest dreams thought she would be so completely willing, so totally responsive, so easily accessible to him. It was shredding the last of his resolve. She felt so good, so perfect in his arms and his enthralled body was already preparing to take the next step as his mind made a last-ditch effort at stealing control.

"Kate…" he muttered as she turned in his arms, her head rotating on his shoulder and her mouth panting warmly into the curve of his neck.

He squeezed her hips as she kissed him there briefly, her hands moving up his chest, under his jacket. She pulled away to look up at him, her eyes druggy with want and expectation. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, couldn't stop himself from wanting them.

"Kate…" he tried again, managing to mumble: "What about your boyfriend?"

Her brow creased in confusion, her eyes blinking away the fog of desire as she searched his face for a moment.

"He's not my boyfriend," she told him simply, her tone vaguely indignant. She swallowed and averted her eyes, adding quietly: "I haven't had a serious boyfriend in years, Gibbs. If you recall," she continued tentatively: "I dumped my last boyfriend a day or so after I met you." She shrugged and met his eyes uncertainly, telling him softly: "I haven't been with anyone since."

"Why?" he questioned quietly after a long pause, his voice crackly in his throat. He watched her fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "Why, Kate?" he insisted gently, putting his hands over hers and stopping their fussing.

Kate looked up at him and sighed. "Same reason," she murmured, shaking her head at herself: "that I work late every chance I get…. and clear my weekends in case you call." Her eyes flicked up to his then away again: "Same reason," she shrugged lightly, glancing to one side: "that I take my coffee strong and only sleep with a gun under my pillow."

She bit her lip and looked up at him, her eyes dropping to his mouth fleetingly. He was hanging on her every word, waiting for conclusive proof of what he suspected might be the biggest break of his entire life. He needed her to say it, needed to hear her confession. He wasn't sure that he was actually hearing what he thought he was. Could he really be that lucky?

When she received no reaction from him besides stunned silence, Kate took a big breath and continued with a more purposeful voice:

"Maybe…" she supposed softly: "maybe it's the same reason your car has been parked on my street three times this week."

He started, shocked, and took a few steps back, ducking his head guiltily. He felt his stomach churn with shame, but he only had himself to blame -- she'd probably been onto him from the very beginning. He stuffed his unruly hands into his pockets again, admitting with a rueful sigh: "Four."

She raised her eyebrows, nodding slowly as she digested this information. "Four?" she breathed, slightly amused and amazed.

"So…" he shrugged, running one hand through his hair and wincing, forgetting about the wound he'd inflicted on himself. "What do we do about it?" he muttered grimly, turning to find the icepack in the sink and jamming it against his hand again.

He needed a little distance between them. He needed something to do with his hands other than touching her, somewhere to look other than her eyes. They were drawing him in like some sort of mesmerizing vortex, making him believe he could dive in and be saved. She was making him think all sorts of things were possible.

"How do we deal with… _this_?" he grumbled, glancing across at her warily. They were adults; they could acknowledge this strange chemistry that had always subsisted between them. It didn't mean, however, that it was a good idea to give in to it, he told himself, his head attempting to take control again.

Kate huffed and shrugged slightly, looking at him with a vaguely bewildered expression: "I dunno, Gibbs," she answered, her tone slightly peeved: "What do you _want _to do about it?"

"Jesus," he muttered, dropping the icepack in the sink again and shaking his head at the floor: "Don't ask me that."

"Why not?" she questioned softly, stepping away from the counter where he'd had her pinned.

"Kate..!" he gasped wretchedly, trying not to look at her but feeling her intense gaze on him nevertheless.

Apparently, the woman saw no problem in them jumping each other's bones and seeing just how good they could make one another feel if they truly surrendered to their basest impulses.

Apparently, she didn't see anything wrong with the fact that he was her boss and almost as old as her father. Not to mention a grumpy sonovabitch. Apparently, she didn't mind that all he wanted in the world right now was to take her into the bedroom that he knew was right down the hall and not let her out of it again for a good few months.

Apparently, Kate was going to be no help at all with staving off this thing he'd determined a long time ago that he had to overcome.

She took another careful step towards him. "What do you want to do about it, Gibbs?" she persisted in her soft, smooth voice: "What is it you want?"

He slumped back against the sink, glaring at her from under his brows: "You know what I want," he told her lowly, a caution in his underlying tone.

Her eyes held his, unblinkingly, unflinchingly. She gave a tiny shake of her head, eyebrows raised, seemingly in the dark.

His eyes drifted over her, standing so still and patient. She was more than just some anonymous woman in a sexy dress. He knew this person well and cared for her more than he could even comprehend. He didn't not how that had happened, how she'd found her way past his oldest defenses. But it had and she did, and attempting to fight it or deny her now seemed utterly futile. He was smart enough to know when he was licked.

Slowly he moved closer, heart pounding in his chest, until he met her in the middle of the floor.

"Kate," he reached out with one hand and cupped her cheek, leaning in to whisper: "… _I want you._"

"Oh," she murmured after a long moment, totally taken aback. Her eyes gleamed brightly as her mouth curled up into a shy smile: "Good," she commented simply.

"Good?" he demanded testily. She had no idea how long and how rigorously this had tortured him, what guts it had taken for him to confess that.

"Yeah," she nodded, gazing up at him with big, shining eyes and admitting lowly: "-- 'cause I want you too."

He grinned, vaguely stunned, and murmured: "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," she answered conclusively.

His hands slipped over her shoulders and down her back, gently pulling her closer. They both inched forward, nervously, eyes locked in heated anticipation. His mouth closed the last breathless distance to cover hers and her lips opened under him, inviting him deep.

Her lipstick tasted like peaches and her hair was in his hands. Her kiss was frenzied and enthusiastic, ebbing and flowing, as she smiled against his mouth. Every desire poured out as he held her and kissed her with all the passion and longing and intensity he had withheld for so long.

One hand slipped down the back of her dress, splaying out to explore the warm naked skin at the small of her back. Kate moaned into his mouth, sucking on his upper lip as her hands pulled him ever closer. He stumbled forward, wanting more of her to touch and taste.

She bumped backwards into the counter and he lifted her eagerly so she sat on its edge, moving between her legs as their mouths found a different angle of attack. Her arms wove around his neck, hands delving through his hair as she took control of the kiss, tilting his head back from her higher position. That perfume of hers was making him dizzy as his hands moved incessantly over that wicked black satin. One slipped up under the skirt to stroke her creamy thigh, while the other kept her pressed firmly against his chest.

"Gibbs…" she whispered breathlessly, as he broke from her mouth.

He ran his eyes over her petite body perched on the counter before him, his hand moving languidly beneath her dress as he tugged at the thin strap keeping the garment from falling. He leaned in to place a kiss on her chest and another just at the base of her neck. Kate shuddered visibly when another kiss landed on her shoulder, replacing the strap as he slipped it away.

"Gibbs," she murmured again, watching his actions with a heady languor: "I don't want to freak you out here or anything…." she mumbled fuzzily, her words labored with passion.

Gibbs continued kissing her chest and shoulders, letting his curious tongue taste her skin as she struggled to finish her thought. Now that he had given himself permission, he didn't think he could stop touching her if his life depended on it.

"…but, I think… I think I might be in love with you," she admitted hesitantly.

He stopped and pulled back, a strange current speeding through his brain. He was suddenly aware of the warmth in his body and the nearness of her, her smallness, her softness. He looked at her for a moment in silence, her eyes shining, her cheeks and chest flushed generously. He'd never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. Why had he waited so long to have this?

Suddenly, life seemed to make sense. The last two years made sense. He made sense.

"I don't want to freak you out either, Kate…" he replied calmly, her phrase sounding strange on his tongue.

"But?" she prompted, softly, holding her breath.

He cupped her face with both hands, leaning in so his lips grazed hers as he whispered: "…but I think I feel the same way."

Kate sighed in relief, her mouth turning up at the edges: "Oh, good," she breathed again, an instant before his mouth swooped down to reclaim hers.

Her arms snaked around his neck as she pulled him close, both attempting to transform their separate maybes into one clear certainty. Despites the reticence of their tongues, Gibbs had a hunch that their hearts weren't going to require very much convincing, and their bodies were eagerly following suit.

He'd woken up this morning alone, a single and lonely man, with nothing to look forward to but another day of work, fighting what seemed like a loosing battle against the nasties of the world and seeing once more the face of the woman he couldn't admit was more important to him than any of it or anything he'd ever known. Tonight, he knew he would go to bed with that woman in his arms, beginning a brave new life for himself with Kate Todd at his side.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"_I'm living for the only thing I know,  
I'm running and I question where to go,  
And I don't know what I'm tapping into,  
Just hanging by a moment here with you. _

There's nothing else to lose,  
There's nothing else to find,  
There's nothing in the world,  
That can change my mind,  
There is nothing else,  
There is nothing else.

_There is nothing else."  
_

-x-x-x-

The following morning, Gibbs helped Kate put on her coat and tossed her red scarf around her neck as they headed out the door. They kissed breathlessly, indulgently as they waited for the elevator and as it slowly descended. He had his hands inside her coat and her back against the wall when the doors dinged open on an elderly couple whose expressions were not at all impressed by their public display of affection. Gibbs grinned carelessly, holding the doors as he ushered out a blushing and smiling Kate and allowed the scowling pair to board.

The wet streets glinted with new sunshine as Kate's arm slipped around his waist and his hand landed on her hip. They passed his parked car on their way to the coffee shop where the previous night, they'd stood with tension, separation and misunderstanding making the air about them stagnant and bitter.

He glanced down at Kate as they rounded the corner and Kate smiled up at him warmly. He leaned down to plant a kiss on her temple, not caring who in the world might see. None of his old concerns bothered him now, none of his previous fears mattered. 'Happy' was not something Jethro Gibbs had had a lot of. Nor was it something he'd felt in the recent past.

But nothing could convince him now that this strange and sudden opportunity wasn't the best thing to ever happen to him and had always been destined from the very beginning. Once he'd made up his mind about something -- or someone -- he stuck to it. He was stubborn that way, and steadfast to the end.

Alan was surprised to see them both walk through the door of his mildly busy café, having met the two of them separately. But the older man seemed genuinely pleased for them, obviously picking up on their newly contented glow. He was prepared to launch into another discussion of the world's woes but Gibbs, this time, was reluctant. On this perfect morning, their screwed up planet looked pretty damn good to him.

Kate had collected their coffees and breakfast and was sitting at a table by the window, when he joined her. She'd noticed his familiarity with the old man and vice versa, giving him a questioning look as he took a seat across from her.

"Exactly _how long_ have you been following me, Gibbs?" she murmured suspiciously, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"I wouldn't say 'following' you, exactly…" he began, glancing to one side.

"Following," she shrugged offhandedly, pulling apart her bagel: "surveilling, stalking--"

"Let's say," he interrupted, leaning across the table and speaking lowly: "'watching over'."

"Hmm," she responded thoughtfully and took a sip of coffee, examining him over the rim of the paper cup.

"That bother you?" he mumbled after a pause, narrowing his eyes as he watched her face.

She was thoughtful a moment. "Not really," she admitted, shaking her head and leaning in closer as well. She smiled, tore off a piece of buttery bagel and shoved it into his mouth. "I'm just happy you've finally come in out of the cold," she added, tipping her head to one side and licking her fingers.

"Yeah," he chewed, as he captured her hand and brought it to his lips. He gave it a soft kiss and told her: "Me too, Katie."

* * *

A/N: Lyrics are c/o Lifehouse from the album No Name Face and do not belong to me. 


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